


'Tis a far, far better thing doing stuff for other people

by stepquietly



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Crack, Drunkenness, F/M, I love you Gina, Season Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepquietly/pseuds/stepquietly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gina is making a supreme sacrifice here, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis a far, far better thing doing stuff for other people

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hapakitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/gifts).



It’s taken nearly an entire paycheck’s worth of rum and beer, but Boyle’s finally stopped telling them about how Vivien used to de-seed cherries and make sex pie.

Rosa and the Sergeant gave up somewhere half-way into Boyle’s third monologue about the sweet musk of the lemon and moss couples facials they used to take together, but Gina’s hanging on by sheer dint of having tuned Boyle out for the majority of his talky-talk.

Well, there’s that, and then there’s also the fact that Gina's drunk enough that if she squints, Boyle's weird Matrix outfit actually _does_ make him look like Rosa.

"If I close my eyes and imagine you as someone else, I can almost find your attractive," she informs him, rubbing her cheek against the cool surface of her glass.

"Really? Even with the egg smell?" Boyle sounds thrilled. Gina nods, keeping her eyes closed and imagining Rosa’s hair, her mouth, the look in her eyes before she punches suspects in the face; cat with heart-eyes.

"While I’m not saying that it helps, I’ve decided not to say that it doesn’t either. There’s the whole leather and eggs smell thing, but if I ignore everything about you, I don't feel completely repulsed any more.”

"Cool!" Boyle sounds thrilled, though that’s his default state, pineapple, cartoon thumbs down, face with x’s for eyes.

"I wouldn’t turn Rosa down, you know," she hints, going so far as to squint one eye vaguely open. Boyle looks confused. "You could keep the jacket on so only the absolutely essential parts touch, and then we could make nasty here."

" _Here_ here?" Boyle sounds terrified, and Gina groans.

"Stop talking! You're ruining it already! If you have to say things, make them cold and dead inside like Rosa. I’m making a huge sacrifice here for the good of the precinct. I should be being saluted with like, guns and a parade of scantily clad dancers who invite me to join with them and dance 'til we fall in a pile of sweaty, writhing bodies and are covered in a million roses all plucked from the bouquets of past Oscar winners."

"Okay,” Boyle says, sounding confused and tentative, “So I’m supposed to…”

“Make with the Rosa here! I’m sobering up as we speak and then you’ll have lost your chance”

“Okay, okay. Let me think.” She can actually hear him rub his tiny-little marmot hands together. “I’ve got it. I’m Rosa. I hate you"

It’s the worst impression she’s ever heard in her entire life, and in all the lives she may have lived where she was worshipped as a goddess and fed on nothing but candied fruit and wine, but Gina decides to be gracious just this once and cut him some slack. After all, it’s not every day he gets to pretend to be a co-worker in order to try to sleep with her, and most people would falter when confronted with the vision of her graceful radiance.

She can be magnanimous. Just this once. "Go with it, Charles! Really dig deep for that Rosa core of stone."

"Stop having feelings. I don’t like feelings." It’s still too perky but closer to Rosa's deadpan intonation.

"Keep 'em coming," Gina orders, waving her hand and leaning back in her chair.

"If you give me orders, I'll break your face."

"Yeah!" Gina laughs. "Damn, Boyle, you're _working_ this!"

"Shut up! Don’t tell me what I’m doing."

Gina shakes her head. "Too far, man. Too far."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Boyle rushes out, “Was that too much? I was really trying to dig deep there.”

"Don't break character!"

"Sorry!"

"Dammit, that’s the first rule of theatre and the dance. You have to live your part. You have to be the change. You have to be the boy and girl dancing until heart and two smiley faces.” She opens her eyes and stares across the table at him, chin perched on the edge of her glass. “And now you’ve ruined it."

“Really?” Boyle sounds heartbroken. He’s actually got his coat open, and oh god, he’s eating the pocket egg from earlier.

Gina throws her hands in the air. "Stop eating eggs! Now I’ve indulged your face with x’s for eyes and your beer, wine, mojito, crying face emoji, but it’s time for you to get back on the horse.”

“But…” His face crumples, “but I was Vivian’s magic pony during wondersex.”

“Oh god.” She’s being supremely heroic here. “ _Fine_. I’ll take care of this. But I _deserve_ a raise.”

“What?”

“Get up. You’re all sad and gross, and now I can't even pretend you're Rosa properly. The sex is bound to be disappointing, so let’s just go get it over with."

"So we're still going to make love?" Boyle sounds a combination of terrified and thrilled.

"Not if you keep calling it that." He looks suitably chastened. "We're only doing it the once. And I reserve the right to punch you in the balls if the words 'joy', 'orgasm', 'sensation', 'erectile' or 'stimulation' pass your lips. Or anything involving food."

"So I should just be silent the entire time?"

Gina pats his head condescendingly. "That's probably for the best. Let's go."


End file.
